Restless Spirits
by DangitJohn
Summary: John Egbert has been dead for 13 years. But recently, in the small, mostly unnoticed town of Skaia, there has been some... strange happenings. Paranormal things that can't seem to be explained. Now, his old friends, Dave, Jade, and Rose, go back to the town, to get to the bottom of all these 'Ghost' rumors.
1. Prologue, The Decision of the Midnight

**Restless Spirit**

**Prologue: The Decision of the Midnight Crew**

It was the middle of the night, when they decided. When they decided that John Egbert had to die. It was nothing against him, of course… but that damn father of his. He was getting in the way.

The 'they' in question, of course, was Spades Slick and his gang, the Midnight Crew. They had moved into the town of Skaia a year prior, when they heard about the small town with a rising population, rising economy…

...And rising crime rate.

These were all green flags for starting up some things. You know, the usual. Smuggling drugs, killing people that got in their way.

Right now, their biggest competitor, the Felt, was on the way down. Unfortunately, that meant that all eyes were on them- including the Police.

And the head of the Force, Mr. George Egbert, was on their heels. He almost busted one of their sales recently, and was getting closer to their headquarters at every moment.

They had to stop him.

But how?

Four men, and two women sat around the table.

The undisputed leader, Slick, was growling.

"There has to be some way to stop 'im. If I get word of one more of our guys dead, one more sale 'interrupted' or anything like that, there is going to be BLOOD. No, scratch that." He paused, and looked up from the brim of his hat, slyly.

"There's going to be blood before he even gets a chance to stop _anything_."

There was applause from the smallest person in the room, a short, squat guy called Clubs Deuce, and the second shortest, a nice looking lady called simply Paint, or, if you were anywhere near her soon-to-be-husband, Slick, Ms. Paint.

"Now. Anyone got any ideas on how we're gonna get this guy out of the force?"

There was an awkward sort of silence in the room. Everyone suddenly found their fingernails, or the table,_ or anything other than admitting to Spades Slick that they had no idea what to do,_ very, very interesting.

Suddenly, a tall, lean member of the crew, Diamond Droog, looked up from examining his nails, and spoke.

"I think I might have an idea."

"Which is…? C'mon, Droog, we don't have all night."

"Well, we obviously can't just kill him outright. People will know, they'll search for his killer, they'll eventually track all that mess back to us. But maybe we kill someone he cares about… Like his kid or something. Or his wife. And then make sure he knows that if he keeps going after us, there'll be more trouble."

"Wait, but won't he just be on our trail even more after his kid's gone?"

"Good point. So, we kidnap the kid, hold him at gunpoint. Call Egbert. Let him take the kid home, safe, as long as he retires from the force."

"...I like the way you think." This was high praise, coming from Slick. "Let's do some research, find out about his wife, things like that. Meet back here tomorrow night."

The other members of the gang left the mansion. That is, except for the tall, scary looking lady, and Ms. Paint.

The scary lady spoke.

"Slick. You know why I work with you. And kidnapping a little kid? That ain't it. Come on, there has to be a better way to get to the guy. The wife. Anything. Just don't kill some stupid kid."

"Well, Snowman, I never thought that I'd see this side of you. All… caring."

Sneered Slick. The woman, Queenie Snowman, brought her cigarette holder dangerously close to his left eye. Ms. Paint screeched.

"I just don't wanna see no little kid gettin' hurt for no good reason. Now. Make sure he gets out of this alive, or you're gonna need an eyepatch. Okay?"

She smiled in a cat like way, and pulled the cigarette holder back, as Slick nodded slowly.

"He'll make it out of this alive. I _promise_."

"Good." She walked out with the rest of them, high heels clicking on the floors. At the door, she yelled something to Droog, and got into his car, presumably to go home with him and have an… interesting… evening.

But that wasn't important. At least, not to Slick. He had his own comforts…

Ms. Paint was getting into her nightgown, eying Slick seductively, when she remembered the contents of the meetings. She was accustomed to sitting in on them, even when the topic didn't always seem like it was making her very… comfortable. But that night had a similar effect on her as it had Snowball; she was rather unpleased.

"Please, Spades… What Snowball said earlier. You've got to make sure that little kid stays alive. He didn't do anything…"

"I know. I know. I promise that I won't hurt the kid. Wouldn't dream of it. Killing a kid in cold blood? That's not really my style, babe."

"Thank you." She let out a sigh of relief. "Now… where were we…?"

The next night, they were all at the mansion again. Slick was grinning, for once.

"Well boys- tomorrow's the day. So, what do we know about Mr. Egbert?"

A large, muscular man, called Hearts Boxcars, was the first to answer. "His wife disappeared about 13 years ago, right when they had their children. She took the girl, left him with the boy. Real strange. But now his kid, John, is all he has. So this plan should work."

"What about his number. Did we get that?"

Droog nodded. He had it from a phone book he had dug up in his basement.

"Then everything is going to plan. Tomorrow morning, little Johnny gets dropped off to school, we kidnap him, call papa Egbert, and what do you know- Pops drops out of the force, we're in the clear."

"Alright, Slick… but don't forget our little agreement…" Said Snowman, idly twirling her cigarette holder.

Trying not to show his fear of the woman, Spades nodded.

"Alright- listen up. No one kill the kid. You hear me? The kid ends up dead, so do you. We just want Papa Egbert. Johnny boy is useless to us."

They nodded, knowing how serious he was. There used to be a fifth man in the group- but no one had seen since he had been dubbed 'A betrayer'. (Of course, they all knew that he was dead, probably in a pit somewhere. But the members of the Midnight Crew had decided long ago that it really wasn't 'their business', and never brought it up.)

The rest of the night passed relatively quickly, and soon it was time to go. Snowball and Slick were the ones who decided to go 'retrieve' John, and to do so, they were acting as his Aunt and Uncle, Jane and Jake English.

No one would be any the wiser.

Their disguises were impeccable- The dangerous, thin Snowman could easily pass as a middle aged housewife, and Slick was the definition of a tired old man.

Basically, everything that they weren't.

The two waited in the car as the hundreds of cars drove up to the school, dropped off their kid, and drove away. Finally, the bell for first period rung. It was their time.

Walking into the school, Snowball awkwardly intertwined her arm with Slick's.

"It's been a while." Whispered Slick.

"I was at your Mansion last night, Slick."

"No, I mean since we-"

"Yeah. I know."

They both looked away, and didn't speak again until they entered the office.

"Hello, may I help you?"

Asked the office lady. She looked up, sweetly. Slick tried his best to smile. She recoiled in a polite disgust.

"Hello, um, ma'am. We're here to pick up John Egbert from school? I'm his uncle and-"

"Yes, sir… Well… Let me just see here." She started typing on her computer briefly, and then nodded at them. "I just sent an email… John should be here shortly."

"Thank you!" Snowball said in a high, singsong voice that was far from her own. They sat down in some chairs, and stared awkwardly at the receptionist. She smiled at them, awkwardly, before going back to her work.

It was a horrible five minutes that passed in awkward silence before John walked into the room.

Slick smiled.

"Hey, kid. How about a hello for your uncle Jake?"

"...You don't look like Uncle Jake…"

"...So, I lost a few pounds. Thanks for noticing! Now, let's get outta here, and surprise yer dad!"

John thought it over for a second. He wasn't an idiot; he knew that he man with the balding hair and Latin looking skin was NOT related to him, in any way, shape, or form. And yet… if he went back to class, he would have another hour of Algebra in front of him. And that wasn't something that he could take.

"Okay! Let's go… Uncle!"

They walked out the front door of the school, and into the car, before the two criminals dropped their act of the happy old couple. Snowball sat in the back, with John, and smiled.

"Sorry about this, kid…"

And she knocked him out with the heel of her shoe.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Slick drove off, back to a warehouse, where they agreed to meet.

"Call Droog- tell him to call Egbert."

Snowball blushed. "I don't think that I should be the one to talk to Droog for a few days…"

"What hap- never mind. Give me yer phone."

Slick took the phone, trying not to blush at the thought of what had happened between his ex-lover and oldest friend. Was that… jealousy? No, of course not. He brushed away the thought. There was no way that he would sink so something so… low. And besides. He had Paint now.

Yeah.

Definitely over Snowball. One hundred percent. Three hundred percent.

She was just a huge bitch, anyway. Bluh. Bluh.

Slick was saved from his thoughts by the scratchy voice on the other end of the line. He had never been so relieved to hear Droog in his life.

After the phone call, they pulled up to the warehouse, carrying John inside.

He was quickly tied to a chair, and after that, it wasn't very long until they heard cars pulling up in front. What they weren't expecting was that it was cars. Plural.

Egbert had come, as per request, but he had brought some friends with him. Dangerous friends.

Armed with guns.

"Midnight Crew. We have your warehouse surrounded. Come out with your hands up."

"...Shit."

The gang looked at each other, fear in their eyes.

"If you don't come out, we'll come in…" warned the voice outside.

"Go ahead. We have a gun to the kid's head…" Spades replied.

That was when the shit hit the fan.

The door burst open, and three men, armed with guns, burst in. "Where's my kid!" Screamed the one in front.

"Hello, Egbert." Said Slick, smiling. He had a gun to John's head. Dad Egbert let out a whimper before regaining his composure. "Let my son go, or so help me…"

"What can you do, Egbert? Move a step towards me, and I shoot your kid in the head."

"No!"

"Then retire. Forget about us. Just… go on your way. Take your son home, and leave."

"I- I can't do that! I have a duty to this town-!"

Slick fingered the trigger. "Then I'm afraid you've forced my hand."

The loud crack of a gunshot echoed across the warehouse. And then another. And another. One of them whizzed past Slick's ear, barely missing it. Another harmlessly hit a barrel of wine behind their backs.

The Midnight Crew drew their guns, and started shooting right back. Most of their bullets missed, too, but one of the three policemen who had barged in was immediately shot in the forehead, and fell down, dead.

By the time that all the shots were done, two of the original three policemen were dead on the floor, Hearts Boxcars was shot directly in the kneecap, and…

John had been shot.

In the heat of the moment, everyone had forgotten about the hostage.

No one knew who fired the shot that killed him… But it was in the chest. It was in the chest, and in a way that made it obvious that the gunshot was from the front. And all of the Midnight crew was standing behind him.

But no matter who it actually had been who shot him, be it Midnight Crew or Police, John Egbert was dead.

Dead, but not at rest.

As for Mr. Egbert? Well, the Midnight Crew got their way with him- he turned in his badge, retired from policing. And he was never quite the same. And would you be, if you were convinced that you had shot your own son?

** Wow, thank you for reading the story! I don't know if anyone actually liked it, but… Oh well. Review if you liked it, wanted to see more, or absolutely hated it! All of these things will be taken into consideration. **


	2. Chapter 1- Unwritten Stories

**Restless Spirit**

**Chapter Two: Unwritten Stories**

John Egbert died on a windy night, (possibly) shot by his own father, in a freak accident. He died surrounded by criminals and police. He died a tragic, horrible death that would be talked about and discussed for months and months, until something more interesting came along, and he was, inevitably, forgotten. This came and went, just like every other death.

Tragic.

And forgotten. Everything that had happened wasn't current. It was in the past. The distant, distant past. In fact, he had died more than thirteen years ago.

Now, the scene changes to the wonderful city of New York, in a small apartment, cluttered with scarves, yarn, books, more books, and dirty dishes. It was, of course, Rose Lalonde's new household.

Well, relatively new. She had moved in last year. Before that, she had been roommates with Jade Harley for a while, while they both went to the community college. Rose could have done better than Skaia Community; her grades were certainly good enough, but she hadn't wanted to give up life with her old friends just yet.

In the current frame of time, in the current place of the story (Summer 2014 in the Lalonde apartment) the place sort of reeked from vodka, the aforementioned dirty dishes, and, naturally, shame.

After her first book, the Complacency of the Learned, was published, her life had sort of… veered off course. For one thing, the book, a major success, had been her only good idea in life. Now, her fans were expecting another project…

And try as she might, there was no way that she could think of one. It had been six months since CotL was published. Six. Six months that she had sat at her computer, typed about three words into the screen, and then deleted them, banging her head against the desk, only to repeat the process another thousand times before the day was up. Reading helped, sometimes. So did knitting. But like many other 'failed' writers, Rose had turned her failure into one thing.

An alcohol habit.

Some days, she was drunk by noon. She never went to bed sober- Hadn't for the past month, at least. It was sad.

Even ROSE knew it was sad.

And yet, the sharp tang of the drink was easier to get through than the shame of her career, the shame of not being able to think of another idea.

Some days, she would wake up with a document opened on her computer, clumsily typed words on the screen telling a story that she _knew_ was the next big thing last night- but couldn't even remember the next morning.

But today- Today, she was determined. Determined to ignore the booze locked away in her liquor cabinet, to actually get some work done, and to try to NOT disappoint all her fans who were constantly begging for a new book.

"I hear you guys…" She muttered, as she scrolled down the page of ideas and prompts. "Believe me, I want a new RoLal book just as much as you do."

But the boring, done to death prompts were getting her nowhere. Until she found one that looked, well, if not promising, at least more interesting than the others.

'A small, haunted town, destroyed by the Ghost, will get itself back only if helped by a few old friends.'

She didn't know why, but the idea called to her. It was a good one.

But a ghost town? Should she make up a location, or use a real one? There were so many questions, so many things to wonder… But she had to start somewhere. Real one, Rose decided. That had more promise. Besides, then she could use real legends, build off of things that people had already heard of. That would make it all the more scary. It wouldn't be as worthless as most of the things that she had started over the last six months.

But research- ah, that was the key.

So, starting with a simple Google search, Rose left the slump that she had been in for the past months. There was a new idea in her head. The liquor cabinet was slowly leaving her mind, replaced by the 'Most Haunted Places' list.

Scrolling, Rose read the names idly.

Hotels, towns, streets, each one with a history that she could draw from, with a story that she could write. But none of them jumped out at her- yet. Soon, that was going to change.

She hoped.

After reading about a deserted amusement park, which Rose decided to use if nothing better came up, she saw another name. A name that was… strikingly familiar.

Skaia, Washington.

Her old hometown.

No- surely it was another Skaia. A coincidence. There was never anything haunted in the town when she lived there. It was just- normal. Normal people, with normal jobs. The history wasn't even that strange. Sure, there were the pirate raids, for a while, and that was interesting, of course, but what town didn't have SOME strange thing about it, one way or another? That didn't mean that it was HAUNTED.

But clicking the link, Rose found that it was, in fact, talking about her old home. The pictures matched up, more or less, to her memories. Same high school. Same abandoned warehouses. Same people. Sure, there was some new stuff, but she hadn't lived in the place for almost- eight years now?

Counting back, Rose realised that it was true. She hadn't even visited in almost four years. Wow. Time flies.

Drawn from her reminiscing, Rose looked over the page.

It read:

'Possibly the most haunted place in America, Skaia, Washington, a town near the beaches, has had some of the most convincing paranormal activity THIS blogger has ever heard of.

There have been multiple sightings of an alleged 'Windy Man', a silhouette that brings hurricane force winds in his wake. There have also been multiple occurrences of damage to houses, attacks in random places, and howling screams. Strangely, this seems to not be tied to any one building, street, or neighborhood, but rather, the entirety of the town.

Unlike most hauntings, people have actually gotten hurt. George Egbert, a man of 57, was nearly killed in one of the activities. He got his right leg severed off, and nearly bled to death in an accident with the supposed Wind.

News on his condition is not available, but the latest information on him was that he was, in fact, alive, but others, such as politician Diamond Droog and one woman, Ms. Queenie Snowman, were reported to be in more critical condition. More information, however, is needed.

Long story short, if you're in the ghost hunting game, Skaia isn't a place for amateurs. But who knows? Maybe it's just a trick of the wind...'

Wincing at the poor grammar, Rose stared at the screen blankly for a second before picking up her phone. She dialed a familiar number, the one belonging to Jade Harley. It was one that, when she first moved to New York, Rose had called every day.

Now? Now Rose was lucky if she got to talk to her old friends once or twice a month. But that wasn't the point. She had to know what was going on.

Luckily for the story, Jade had decided to stay in Skaia when Rose and Dave moved. She had a job, and a nice apartment, so there was no real reason to move yet.

Now, a phone in that nice apartment rung. And again. And again. No one picked up all three times. Jade wasn't home.

Rose sighed, and dialed her old friend's cell phone number. The first ring? Nothing. Second? Nothing. Finally, on the third, right when Rose was going to give up, she heard a familiar, normally happy voice on the other end of the phone.

"Rose? Sorry, but now isn't a good time, I-"

"Jade, I'm very sorry for bothering you, but it's important. Can whatever it is wait for even five minutes?"

"I'm not very sure… I'm in the hospital, Rose."

"The HOSPITAL?" Rose's calm demeanor slipped away as she imagined the horrible things that had happened to her friend. The Wind thing from the website… could it be true?

"Oh, no, not like that! I'm taking care of Mr. Egbert- Did you hear, Rose? I guess you probably didn't, but something awful happened!"

"Yes, he got his leg cut off, did he not?"

"...How'd you know that?"

"Saw it on a website. But that's not important. Please, can we talk?"

"Well… Hold on a sec." Rose, slightly worried, waited for three and a half minutes while Jade was off the phone. Finally, she picked up again.

"Okay, he's still not waking up. I guess it wouldn't hurt to step out into the hall for a few minutes…"

"Thank you. Now, what do you know about…" Rose felt silly even asking this "any hauntings? In Skaia, I mean."

"..." The line was quiet.

"Well?"

"You know, Rose, I don't know what to say."

"So you do know something? Jade, please, tell me."

"You'll think I'm crazy or something! Sometimes, I think I'm crazy for all of this stuff, too."

"Jade, please. Do you remember my childhood interests? I can assure you that no matter how farfetched your ideas might seem, I won't think you crazy."

"W-ell… I guess… There might be some weird things going on in this town lately. I mean, Rose, you wouldn't believe this wind. It's not normal sea wind, like they say. It's just… bizarre. And people are getting hurt, Rose. I'm, well… Sometimes it's a bit scary!"

"I can imagine. But go on. Have you ever seen a silhouette of a man?"

"Oh, the Windy Man? Yeah, one time I was out with some of my friends and we saw him." Jade's tone dropped. She remembered something. "And… And do you know what, Rose? I must have been more drunk than I thought that I was, because I thought that the silhouette was… John. But that's crazy, right?"

Rose was silent for a few moments. A ghost in the town… And now John? It made sense; he had died in the town, and from the little she had gathered, it wasn't a pleasant death. But why would the ghost wait so long to be active?

"Tell me, Jade, when did all this start acting up?"

"The ghost stuff, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Oh, about three months ago. In April, I think."

"April… like John's birthday?"

"Oh. Oh no. Rose, you don't think…"

"I'm not sure what to think anymore, actually. But hold on. I need to look something up."

Rose put down the phone, and went back to her laptop. Google. She typed in 'Skaia, April 2014.'

Up popped dozens of pages. Some were just event calendars, some worthless ads, but most of them were related to the fire of the CrockerCorp warehouse that had been occupied in the town. The date of the fire? April 13th. The same day as John's birthday…

...And, if Rose remembered correctly, the same day that he died.

She picked up the phone.

"Jade? Are you still there?"

"Yes! What'd you find?"

"Do you know exactly what day all this paranormal stuff started happening?"

"Um… it was somewhere near the middle of April, as far as I can remember."

"And do you know about the CrockerCorp fire?"

"Yeah! It was in that abandoned warehouse. You know the weird thing? I think that was the place where John… you know..."

No one in their group could ever bring themselves to talk about their deceased friend's unfortunate fate. But Rose knew exactly what she meant.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"Jade? I think that the Big Apple is giving me health problems."

"That's a bit off topic… What?"

"Yes… I'm sure that my manager wouldn't mind if I took a little vacation back home to Skaia… Just so that I could clear my head. Who knows? Maybe my next big project could be in the works soon…"

"What are you talki- wait. Are you going to come down here?"

"Yes, Jade. I think that I need to see what's going on back in dear old Skaia."

The line went dead halfway through Jade's reply. Rose, slightly worried, tried calling her back, but it went straight to voicemail.

And the second time. And the third. By the forth, Rose gave up, left a message saying to call her back ASAP, and started booking her plane tickets.

She was going home.

* * *

**Yeah, sorry. Pretty crappy. But I did like writing for Rose- I hope I got her character correct. If I didn't, tell me in the comments and I'll change it! Other than that, tell me what you think, any characters you want to see, all that. Thank you! You guys are awesome!**


End file.
